


Cooking for Christmas

by LemonadeRenegade



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Cooking, Developing Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, sterek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 07:42:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17117270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonadeRenegade/pseuds/LemonadeRenegade
Summary: Stiles is determined to give the pack a great Christmas dinner. The only trouble is, he can’t really cook.But surely Derek can, right?





	Cooking for Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my very first, tentative step into writing fanfic. I‘d love and adore any feedback, whether negative or positive. 
> 
> Forgive any long sentences, overuse of commas and my clear love of italics. Sarcasm and gibberish are actually my first languages. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and have a safe and fantastic Christmas!

Stiles wasn’t sure about this Christmas. He and Lydia were still somehow a little awkward around each other after their very mutual, amicable breakup. 

After the drama of the Wild Hunt, he and Lydia had finally become a couple. It took all of a month to realise that they were better as friends. It turned out that all of his pining over her during high school, and all of her worry over him being taken, had been enough to think there was more there than there really was. He loved her, he knew this. But he wasn’t in love with her. And she felt the same, especially after Isaac had come back to Beacon Hills to help with their Hunter problem and had looked at her as though seeing her for the first time. And after so much trauma and bravery and growth for the both of them over the years, maybe he was. 

He knew they’d be fine. The awkwardness was nothing more than the weirdness of seeing your best friend naked, and feeling as though you’ve let down everyone who was shipping you for so long. But Stiles still wasn’t sure about this Christmas. Though to be fair, after everything the pack had been through over the last couple of years, he wasn’t sure about a lot of things. Everyone would be together, so that was good. But it was mostly because they were all waiting for the next wave of crazed Hunters to stir up trouble. Which, you know, wasn’t all that good. But ever the optimist, Stiles was determined to make sure the entire pack had the best Christmas yet.

*

“What are you doing?” Derek gave him agitated eyebrows as Stiles rushed past him into the loft. He tried for forceful and confident, but it wasn’t easy with arms full of groceries.

“Good morning to you too, Derek. Me? I’m great. Thanks for asking, since I know you care so very much.” He combated the eyebrows with his cheesiest smile and ignored the rush he felt when he saw Derek hide a smile of his own. He also ignored the bare feet and the slightly too tight shirt the wolf wore. Nope. Nothing sexy about Derek at all. 

The bags were heavy enough that it took a small grunt of effort to lift them onto the kitchen bench, and Stiles was sure he heard the wolf make a small noise at that. Again, he ignored it. He tended to ignore a lot of things about Derek and the way Derek made him feel lately. It was a defence mechanism by now. A survival instinct. And Stiles was nothing if not a survivor.

Derek opened a bag beside him and chuckled softly. He grabbed one of the items from inside and held it up questioningly.

“What? I know you like pumpkin, I’ve seen you eat it before. And what better time to have a roast dinner than just before Christmas? Let’s call it a trial run, just in case we fuck it up.” Stiles pointedly didn’t look at Derek as he spoke, still pretending he could ignore him. 

Derek frowned, “Yeah, but why here?”

“Because you have great wolfy senses and can tell me before I burn anything,” Stiles scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, “and, uh, you know, it’s still a bit weird for me to be around Lydia. Her and Malia are attached at the hip, and Scott is always with Malia, so… I couldn’t ask him to be my nose.”

“Do you even have a plan here or are you hoping I’ll somehow know how to cook?” 

“Well, you’ve been an independent adult the longest, so shouldn’t you?! I don’t know what I’m doing! That’s why I need help!” He flailed his arms wildly as his voice rose higher and higher. He felt a pair of large, warm hands grab his elbows before he hurt himself. Derek was right there, in front of him. He couldn’t ignore anything now. He licked his lips nervously, catching Derek’s eyes track the movement. Oh shit. He was so done. 

He tried to push it down, he knew the wolf could do so much better than a scrawny klutz, even if that scrawny klutz happened to be a trainee-FBI agent and quite often the smartest person in the room. Well, as long as Lydia wasn't also in the room. He wasn’t sure how his crush would be rec- no. Crush wasn’t the right word. A crush was what he’d felt for Lydia. This was… something more. Something important. And knowing Derek as long as he had still didn’t help him in figuring out what kind of reception his new more-than-a-crush would receive. He wasn’t sure how his feelings for Derek would be taken. So he planned to mention nothing and ignore the issue until he either died of old age or Derek found out and murdered him with his teeth. Easy peasy.

Derek’s grip loosened and then disappeared completely, making Stiles more conflicted than ever. He willed his heartbeat to calm, knowing Derek could hear it. 

Derek grabbed the pumpkin again and looked at Stiles with an almost mischievous look. “You can cut it, knives are in the block over there, chopping board is under the sink. Wash it first, if you bought it at the farmers market it’ll need an extra wash. Jonas has good produce but he’s lazy; it’s always dirty as fuck.”

Eyes widening in surprise, Stiles cleared his throat. “So you can cook! And we’re doing this, then?”

Derek rolled his eyes, “Yes, I cook. Now cut then wash the damn pumpkin. And leave the skin on, it’s the best part.”

*  
Almost two hours later, the scent wafting from the oven was amazing. Stiles was excited to try it almost as much as he was excited to cook the real feast he had planned for Christmas next week. Everyone was invited, and everyone would come. He wouldn’t allow anyone to get out of it. 

Derek knew how to cook. It wasn’t surprising, he’d thought as much. What was surprising, however, was how patient he’d been with Stiles. He didn’t just do, he taught. Stiles was determined to need zero help for the real deal, but Derek just might be changing his mind.

“So, I’m going to be doing this for real Christmas night, as you know. And I think I maybe-might-perhaps-kinda,” his rant was cut short by a finger to his lips. Serious green eyes met his and Derek smiled softly.

“I’ll help you, sure. You’d be fine yourself with the cooking, but after what I saw with that pumpkin… You’re a danger to yourself with sharp objects. No wonder you usually use a baseball bat,” His smile was fond and reached his eyes easily. Stiles wasn't sure what to do, so he did what came naturally.

He scoffed loudly. “I’ll have you know I’m very adept at bladed weaponry. I’m a master of swordplay, I’m practically Rurouni Kenshin! That pumpkin was the problem. It was tough and awkward and didn’t cooperate at all!” 

Derek laughed softly and grabbed the side of Stiles’ neck softly, “I believe you. You’re a samurai in disguise.” His thumb rubbed against Stiles’ jaw slowly, making him all but melt into a puddle on the floor. But he wouldn’t be Stiles if he went down without a fight.

“What are you doing?” He all but shouted Derek’s earlier words back at him, his flushed face giving away his true feelings. 

Derek smiled again and leaned in close. He whispered against Stiles’ neck, just under his ear, his lips brushing against his already overheated skin. 

“I’m a werewolf, Stiles. Your heartbeat over the last few months hasn’t been easy to ignore. So I’m done ignoring it.” He kissed Stiles then, grabbing his hair in one hand while the other hand continued stroking patterns against his jaw. Stiles whimpered into the kiss for a moment, then regained his bearing and met Derek’s tongue with his own, finally able to kiss the man who’d been on his mind in some way since he was sixteen.

The wolf hesitated a moment and withdrew, his nose twitching slightly. “I think the pumpkin’s about to burn.”

Stiles grabbed Derek’s face and kissed him again, giving it all he had. There was still a week until Christmas. They had plenty of time to practice.


End file.
